"Me ain't trouble," she answered, using English as well as her very imperfect knowledge would admit. "Me ain't trouble—me ain't."
"Who may it be then?"
"The-au-o-too—he much trouble. Sick—in woods—die—berry sick."
"What do you mean, At-to-uck?" asked the missionary, his interest strongly awakened. "Has anything befallen your husband?"
"He fall," she answered, eagerly, catching at the helping word, "he fall—much hurt—die—die—won't got well."
"Where is he?"
She spun around on one foot, and pointed deeper into the woods. "He dere—lay on back—soon die."
"And he wishes me to see him; is that it?"
She nodded her head vigorously, but made no answer for a moment. Then she suddenly broke forth: